


Not Pete

by edourado



Series: Hell's Kitchen Chronicles [97]
Category: The Punisher (TV 2017)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Oneshot, Smut, a little bit of flirting never killed nobody, kastle - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-06
Updated: 2017-12-06
Packaged: 2019-02-11 12:07:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,434
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12934935
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/edourado/pseuds/edourado
Summary: She doesn't like the new name





	Not Pete

**Author's Note:**

> idek

All the words she had prepared to throw at him, thought out in the height of her worry, anger and righteousness, slipped right off her brain when she saw him again, barely two weeks after the whole mess at the hotel.

She was sitting at the window seat of a nice coffee shop in Brooklyn, typing down notes on her phone from the interview she had just walked out of, waiting for her latte to be ready so she could go home, when there he was.

Karen lifted her head from her phone, trying to decide if she should add that little sexist comment from the Congressman or not, when she saw him. Frank. Standing there on the other side of the street, leaning against the wall between a drug store and a dry cleaning place, hands in his pockets, hoodie over his head, dressed in all black, the picture of danger itself.

Not a man you would approach out of nowhere.

She doesn’t know how long they stared at each other, but the crease between his brows was not so pronounced when she jumped at the “Karen!” the barista shouted over the counter. She blinked, put her phone in her pocket, moved to get her coffee and walked out, a little bit relieved to see he hadn’t left. The possibility that he was just checking on her did cross her mind when she turned away from him to get her order. Maybe he just wanted to see if she’s ok, let her know he’s still alive, and then he’d go?

But he was still there.   

She checked for cars and crossed the street when it was clear, feeling her heart beat faster when she got to him, that little smile on his lips, almost not there at all, and she didn’t know if she wanted to punch him or hug him.

Maybe a bit of both. Maybe a lot more of both.

“Is this your thing? Lack of proper 21st century communication?”

He shrugged, blinking, but not dropping his gaze from hers.

“Gotta be original somehow.”

She chuckled and shook her head.

“Where have you been?”

Frank took a breath and leaned off the wall.

“Wanna take a walk?”

Karen was glad she decided to wear her comfortable boots that day, because they walked and walked and walked while he told her what had happened to him after he climbed out of that elevator.

She listened to him, heart threatening to leap out of her throat as he told her that the man he had once considered his brother had betrayed him, sold him out, sought him out to finish what was started at the park.

“I knew it”, she said, shaking her head as cold wind blasted her in the face while they walked side by side, his arm brushing hers here and there. “When I read about the park, I knew it had something to do with you.”

“I thought for sure you were gonna write the story”, he teased, looking at her.

“Ellison pulled me from it.”

“Why?”

“Beats the hell out of me. But we went with the bullshit the police fed us. ‘Drug deal gone wrong’.”

They walked some more and he told her about how it had gotten to that, about David’s family, the deal with Madani, Russo and Rawlings and how they had tortured him, but confessed to all their crimes in the process.

She blinked and the tears fell when she reached her hand and touched the bruises on his face.

“Are you ok now?”

He shrugged, looking away and then at her again.

“Got some cracked ribs, a punctured lung and a concussion. More stitches than I can count, honestly. Pretty sure I have a cold.” And then he lifted his hand to wipe the tears from one of her cheeks. “Don’t cry”, he asked softly. “I’m all better. Can even walk again!”

“You couldn’t walk?!” she asked, alarmed, grabbing his arm and he shook his head, his hand over hers.

“No- It was a joke. Sorry. I could walk, don’t- Don’t worry.”

“I do worry!” she argued. “I do worry, Frank, that’s not something you get to ask me anymore.”

She bowed her head to clean the tears, and suddenly she was in his arms, smelling the subtle smell of his after shave.

“I’m sorry. It’s ok, I’m fine, now, I promise.”

With a kiss to her forehead, he leaned back and looked at her face, and Karen took a deep breath, sniffing and looking back at his.

Deciding to believe him, she wiped the rest of the tears, blinking at him when he tugged under her chin to make her lift her head.

“And it’s… I mean, is it done? With Rawlings and Russo?”

They resumed their walk side by side, going nowhere in particular, just strolling around Brooklyn, not really bothered by the wind coming from the river, and he told her how he had killed Rawlings, but had worked with the NSA and CIA to expose his crimes first.

“You’ve been busy.”

“How does it go?” he mused, throwing her empty coffee cup on a trash can when they turned a corner. “No rest for the wicked.”

“Yeah”, she said, suddenly happy for him, happy that maybe, finally, at least that one war was over. She doesn’t know what the path is, now, doesn’t really dare hope for peace, but maybe, just for a while… “Now there’s the matter of settling just how wicked you are.”

The little laugh that left him warmed her heart, in spite of the cold weather.

“And Micro?”

He bought them more coffee and they ended up by the water again, like that time they had met and it was all still so complicated, he was still so tortured. Now, they leaned against the railings and he told her all about David Lieberman, making her laugh at the stories, smile at the image of his kids, feel good about the family he had found and became important to him.

“They invited me for Thanksgiving”, he told her, facing the water, looking towards Manhattan, while she faced him.

“Did you go?”

He breathed deep and shook his head.

“Thought about it, but… I don’t know, didn’t really feel… Right. You know?”

He looked at her and she shrugged, offering a smile.

“There was shit I needed to figure out, you know, I was all banged up, didn’t to scare the kids or anything.”

“And during that… ‘Figuring out’ process, there wasn’t a moment where you thought ‘Hmm. Maybe I should call that lady. She seems to care about me, maybe she’d like to have news weather I’m alive or dead’. Or something?”

It was a reprimand, but she was so happy for him, that he was here, that he came to see her, that it came out as teasing.

Sure enough, there was that side, charming smile.

“I did think about it.”

“Did you?”

“Yes, I did”, he turned to her, and now they faced each other, very close. “But I didn’t want you to see me like that again. And then I didn’t want to impose on your holiday. And then I thought ‘shit, it’s been too long’.”

She laughed at that, for some unknown reason. It wasn’t even funny, but she laughed and he laughed along.

“But then I knew you were gonna be mad at me.”

“I was mad at you. I was worried sick, but I was mad.”

There is this something that keeps happening, now. She feels a shift in the world whenever they stand like this, close and looking at each other. Last time, it had been inside a service elevator and they were surrounded by police, he was bleeding, barely able to walk, they had just escaped an explosion, but still, there was that shift, as if time was stretching, maybe slowing down. She had to snap herself out of it before, he had to go if he didn’t want to be caught by the NYPD, but now no one’s chasing him. There’s no danger, nowhere they needed to be.

No place they’d rather be.

Frank looked at her and she felt her toes wiggling inside her boots.

“Mostly worried, though?” he asked and she smiled again. 

“Mostly worried.”

He didn’t say anything else. Just stood there looking at her, going from her eyes to her face to her lips and back at her eyes.

“I put those stupid flowers on the window”, she informed, completely incapable and unwilling to stop that smile, and on he stared. And nodded. “I’m pretty sure they’re frozen, now.”

“They are.”

There was a distant beat of music, the heavy beat of an electronic bassline, and it both lulled her into that thing that was happening there between them and out of it, making her turn her face slightly away when he leaned in, slowly, and they both smiled when his nose touched her cheek, his forehead on her temple. Her hand moved up to close on his coat, pulling him to her and away from the railing, resuming their walk.

“Come on”, she called when he made to pull her back, and his hand moved to take hers away from his coat, holding on to it while they started their slow paced stroll. “Tell me what happened to Madani.”

With his hand holding hers, he told her how she had taken him into her home after he killed Rawlings, how her father had saved his life, how he was pretty sure she had planted a tracker on him, because she showed up at the park without any sort of back up, and then she was shot, he had to wait for the cops with her, otherwise she was gonna die for sure. And then how he had actually gotten a decent treatment at the hospital and his record was wiped clean. 

Karen tried to not think about the shape he was in when he was treated by Mr. Madani, focusing instead on the warmth of his palm against hers, even if his fingers were cold.

“Not a dull moment, huh, Frank?”

“Pete”, he said.

“Uh? Oh. Right.”

She looked at him again, walking there by her side, and his face shone with moving lights when he looked back at her. There was some sort of party going on ahead of them, she could feel the beat of the music inside her chest, hard and vibrating.

Taking a step ahead, Karen turned towards him and walked backwards towards those flashing lights and the deep boom boom boom of the music, pulling him by the hand, not changing their slow pace.

“You don’t look like a Pete. Castiglione”, she tested the last name, rolling it out of her tongue.

“No?”

If he keeps looking at her like that, she’s not gonna need her coat in a minute.

“No.”

“What do I look like?”

“You look like Frank Castle.”

“Shh”, he chastised, pulling on her hand, pulling her to him, landing his mouth there on her ear and she gripped the fabric of his coat on his back, left hand still in his. “The whole point is not being Frank anymore. “

She let her head fall to the side a bit, closing her eyes and welcoming the feeling of his mouth on her skin, but then moved to look at him again.

“I don’t know if I’m ok with that.”

Frank lifted his free hand and moved a lock of her hair away from her face.

“You might be the one person left that actually likes Frank Castle”, he said, low, very low, just for her.

“Well. The guy keeps saving my life”. His hand settled on the back of her head, fingers spreading inside her hair, and she let him hold her like that for a second. “What’s a girl to do?”

“For starters, she could stop looking for trouble.”

He looked very good. He always did, but tonight there was something… More. Or maybe she had just missed him too much.

“Hmm. Where’s the fun in that?”

He shook his head, those dark eyes scanning her face, and brought his hand around again. A shiver ran through her, making her tighten the hold she still had in one of his hands, and his thumb pulled on her lower lip a bit, releasing it after a second, his nail scratching a line from her chin to her neck.

She blinked and tumbled her head back, watching as the breath she let out condensed in front of her, and then turned away from him again, pulling him towards the party a few paces ahead.

He made to step to the left, to go around the block. Karen looked at him and tugged.

“Let’s go through.”

It was a warehouse party, the huge doors opened, light, music and party goers spilling out into the street, the view of the Manhattan skyline by night too alluring to pass up. She watched as he looked around, that mean face slipping back on, assessing, checking, so she turned back towards him, tugging on his hand, making him look at her again, that song thumping too loud in her ears, she doesn’t even likes this kind of music, people were laughing and dancing and jumping around them, lights of every color blinked around, and she let go of him, walking backwards, just to watch him chase, and he did.

As if he was hunting, or something, he kept walking towards her, and she walked backwards, bumping into some people, and nobody seemed to mind.

People walked in between them, but he kept his eyes on her. He even behaved when a guy, barely 21, slowed down in front of her in his way.

“Hi, gorgeous”, he tried, but kept walking, Frank’s eyes following him while the guy’s lingered on her.

“Hi”, she said back, stopping, letting Frank reach her, dropping her eyes from him when he was close enough, her own lips on his face, now, hands finding his, fingers intertwining, closing her eyes and breathing him in.

God, she had missed him so much. Had stopped herself from thinking about him at night, wondering where he was, reliving that moment in the elevator, the one by the bridge, when he placed that unexpected kiss on her cheek.

Not now, though. Not anymore. Enough of that.

She placed a kiss of her own on his face, and he lifted his arms from their sides to hug her to him.

“Let’s go”, she said after a moment, suddenly in a hurry.

“Where’re we going?” he asked when they reached the other side of the block, leaving the party and it’s music and lights behind.

She only picked his hand in hers again and walked, a little faster, towards the subway entrance on the other side of the street.

The train stopped at the station fast enough, and they got in an surprisingly full car for this hour. There were no places to sit, but she didn’t mind one bit, standing there in front of him while he held on to the handle by the doors and she held on to him.

It was hard not to kiss him then. But she had decided she wanted to wait until they got to her place, and he seemed to have understood that, maybe they needed to be by themselves to be themselves. Just Frank and Karen, finally.

When the car started again after letting most of the passengers out, she looked at him while he assessed the two ladies and one guy that still rode with them.

“What?” he asked gently, looking back at her, knuckles on her jaw, eyes so intense and carefree at the same time, she loved that look on him.

“Definitely not a Pete”, she whispered, and he leaned in and touched his forehead to her again, making her heart jump, his nose bumping against hers sweetly this time.

“What name would you like, then?”

“I don’t know”, she breathed, resting her head on his shoulder, closing her eyes, letting him hold her against him as the train jostled. “Just not Pete.”

It was snowing when they stepped into the street again, cold, but at least the wind wasn’t so strong.

He tugged on her hand when she climbed the first step of her building’s stoop, making her turn around to him. She tightened her grip on his hand when he looked towards the door, but stopped there on the sidewalk.

Clenching his jaw, he looked back at her and she blinked, suddenly scared he was not coming up with her.

“You sure?” he asked, looking up at her and she looked down at him, that one step making her a tad taller.

Taking that last step, she lifted her hand and caressed his face, relieved when he leaned into her touch.

“I am”, she said, so close, so close now. “You?”

He let out a deep breath that she felt on her face and nodded.

“Come on, then”.

He climbed that step, lifting his hand to her neck, and her eyes were closed already, when-

“Hello, dear!”

Karen sucked in a breath and Frank looked away from the old lady coming from the other direction while she smiled at them.

“Oh! Beth, hi!” Karen greeted her neighbor, hand against Frank’s arm. “How are you?”

“Oh, I’m just fabulous, darling. Leaving for the Bahamas tomorrow.”

She eyed Frank standing there, and Karen tugged on his sleeve to make him turn around.

“Beth, this is- Pete”. And, to him. “This is Beth Brown, she lives downstairs from me.”

Frank smiled politely and nodded towards her.

“So, Bahamas, huh?” Karen asked, turning towards the door, pulling Frank along with her. He walked behind her and Beth, who took her side.

“Oh, yes. I just left Kitty at my brother’s, she can’t go with me.”

She talked about her cat and her travel plans while they climbed the stairs of the building, Frank silent behind them, his hand on Karen’s, trying not to laugh.

“Anyway. I’ll show you the pictures when I’m back.”

“I’ll want to see them”, Karen said, continuing to climb the stairs while Beth walked towards her apartment. “Happy Holidays!”

“For you, too, dear. And nice to meet you. Pete, right?”

“Yes, ma’am. Have a nice trip.”

She thanked them, waving, and turned around to walk down the corridor, and Karen rushed to climb the last flight of stairs, pulling him along.

The key was inside the lock when he pressed her to the door, moving her hair aside so his mouth could touch her neck, pulling her coat from her shoulders, and she breathed out against the wood, turning the key once, twice, unlocking.

The door swung open and he pushed them inside, closing it behind them as soon as they were in.

Karen dropped her purse to the floor right there, shrugging out of her coat while Frank pressed her against the wall behind the closed door.

His lips were cold from the weather outside when they touched hers. So was his nose, the rest of his face, but she felt a bolt of warmth inside when he kissed her, at the hand inside her hair, angling her face to his, the other pulling her shirt from inside her skirt. He tugged on it and she could hear the creak of the next apartment’s door.

“Frank, Frank”, she called while he had his mouth open on her neck, making it’s way down, his tongue making her hands shake. He hummed his question, hands on her legs, behind her, groping and pressing. Not that she minded, but. “Not here”, she whispered when he rose to kiss her again, long, deep and intense. “My neighbor.”

She didn’t work too hard on an explanation. Just put her arm around his neck, pushing his own coat off him with the other hand while kissing him, taking a step to the left to take them away from the door and the nosy neighbor.

His coat was dropped at the end of the small corridor, her shirt was left on the back of her couch and blindly, too busy with each other to look where they were going, they walked further, until her side hit the small island in the center of her kitchen.

Frank found the zipper of her skirt while she was working on his hoodie, but she didn’t get to finish taking it off him before he bent his knees and lifted her, sitting her on the flat surface and pushing her down on it, big hand on her chest.

He looked like something out of the dream she would never admit having, big and tall, standing between her legs while she lied down on the kitchen island, his hoodie zipped halfway down.

She let her eyes run over him while he picked her right leg, found the zipper of her boot near her knee and lowered it to her ankle, removing it and dropping it to the floor by his side, her sock along with it. She pulled him to her with that same leg while he repeated it on the other, looking serious as ever, making her skin erupt in violent shivers when he bent and kissed her belly, first sweetly, then again, a little longer, and then with his tongue touching her skin, his breath, warm while he made his way down, pulling her skirt to reveal more, biting down a little bit above her hip bone when she lifted to let him pull the thing off, letting out some kind of sound that makes her think she’s about to be eaten alive by a wolf, or something, his hands tight and light at the same time, wandering all over, gripping hers for a second before he disappears from sight, but she can feel him, she looks at the ceiling and breathes, realizing she’s shaking, willing herself to stop, this is what she wants, had wanted, had missed even though she never had it, him, here, like this, his hands, his teeth, his mouth, and she’s letting out a shout, arching her back because his tongue,  _yes, please please please, oh my god-_

She had been lying on top of the chopping board, but pushes it over once Frank reaches one hand up, sliding it from her belly button until he reaches her chest, sneaking under her bra. Her right hand catches it, the left pushing the thing off the counter, making a loud noise neither of them care about, not when they’re here, in the dark, like this finally.

She is definitely shaking again when he stands back up and pulls her by her wrist, and she sits up, boneless, reaching for him, putting her arms around him, biting a little harder than she intended on his lower lip, wrestling that damn hoodie off him while he puts an arm around her and spins them around, walking on the general direction of her bedroom, and she really shouldn’t be surprised that he knew where to go. The one other time he came over must have been enough for him to memorize where everything was.

“Take your clothes off, Frank”, she breathed against his mouth, untangling her legs from him when they reached her bed.

The window was closed, but the curtains were not drawn, and the light from the street was enough for her to watch, lying sideways over the heavy duvet she had bought just last week, as he stepped off his boots and finally took his shirt off.

She loved the view of his bare chest, but feeling it against hers must feel a hell of a lot better, so she reached her hand and pulled him on top of her when he took it.

Frank took a moment to kiss her again, supporting most of his weight on her elbows, hands on her hair, bending a leg to force hers up and around his hip, and she was all too happy to comply.

When her hands slid from his back to his stomach, though, tracing the waist of his pants until she found the buckle of his belt, he sneaked one of his under her, trying to unhook her bra.

“Front”, she breathed against his face, screwing her eyes shut when he thrust his hip forward. He was still wearing his jeans, but just the friction and the feel of his muscles under her palms and against her when he did it were almost enough. “It’s a front clasp.”

Without any sort of finesse, he opened it and lowered his face, kissing and nibbling on the skin revealed while she tried to maintain a little bit of focus, just enough to undo his belt and his pants.

Karen lost track of time after that, not even fully aware of the sounds she was letting out, too focused on feeling everything, every part of him, every breath against her face, her mouth, her neck, her skin, the measured movements of his hips against hers, big hands guiding and teasing and caressing and holding, she loves it when he holds her tight like this, loves to feel her muscles shift under and around his fingers, loves it when he presses his teeth and sucks on skin, when he uses her hips for leverage so he can go a little harder, and she’s gone, with an almost scream leaving her throat, holding onto him with hands and arms and legs, palms sliding around the sweat slick skin of his back while he moves still, slower, his name on her lips and hers on his.

Her skin feels cold when he gets up and off her, and she must look like a rag doll, or something. She’s still vibrating when he pulls and rearranges her.

He’s sitting on his heels, now, knees on the mattress, her legs around him while her back and head rest against her pillows.

When he starts moving again, she arches, sensitive, but still so greedy, she wants more, she wants this forever, him, here, more, more,  _more_ , it’s too slow, she wants it harder, know he does, too, there’s a drop of sweat running from his brow down the side of his face, past his jaw and down his neck, his right hand might be gentle as it explores her skin, but the left one is too tight on her hip for him to be ok with this slow of a pace.

With a grunt, because he’s strong, Karen rolls her hips up and towards him, watching as he closes his eyes, wincing as those fingers tighten further on her.

“Frank”, she calls when, still, he keeps it simmering slow, she’s about to go crazy. “Please, please, please…”

He gives her three sharp thrusts, leaning towards her and she closes her eyes, flying high, almost-

“Please what?” he asks suddenly, his face right there on hers, chest to chest, God, he’s so big- “Please what? Like this?”

It’s difficult to move when he has such a tight grip on her, but she does, arching her back and putting one arm back around him, the other reaching behind her to find some grip on the wall, and he kisses her face.

“Yes, please, don’t stop, Frank”, she goes on, aware of the cry that leaves her when he decides to comply.

His face is tucked on the curve of her neck when she feels it again, uncoiling impossibly tight and then releasing, making her shiver, his forehead against hers, and then his body, heavy, but so pleasant, a kiss while he breathes out, bringing her with him when he rolls to lie by her side, keeping that leg bent and over his hip, hand splayed on her lower back.

Feeling lighter than she had in a long, long time, Karen looked at him, her breathing slowly coming back under control. Frank looked back at her, eyes roaming, and his face was… Different. It was the same, but there was something making it… Something. Something good.

“So”, she started, fingertips reaching to run on his jaw. “That’s new.”

He chuckled and leaned forward, collecting another kiss.

“Yeah.”

They stayed there for a while, talking and not talking, enjoying each other’s company in the silence, watching as the snow fell harder outside the window.

“Maybe Tom?” she suggested while they ate the potato chips she had been stashing for the next time she felt she needed a chips, wine and Netflix kinda weekend. She had been watching his face, sitting facing the headboard while he lied against the pillows, facing her. “Or Jason.”

“Jason?” he asked, thumb drawing a circle on her thigh.

“Yeah. As in Jason Bourne.”

Karen let her eyes wander down his neck, his chest and his arms while he smiled and picked up another chip, the rest of him, sadly, covered by her brand new expensive duvet.

The two luxuries she really shouldn’t indulge on, but was incapable of stopping herself: Frank and high thread count sheets.

“I don’t know. Something like that. Just not Pete.”

.:.

Next morning, she was showered and dressed for work, ready to leave, when she silently closed the curtains on the window and bent to kiss him awake.

“Please don’t leave”, she whispered against his face when he stirred.

“Where you goin’?” he asked, lifting a hand to caress her hair.

“I have to go to work.” She sat by his hip and kissed his face softly, not really wanting him to wake up. “Promise me you’ll be here when I come back?”

He kissed her and lied back, blinking slowly, and nodded.

“Ok.”

“Ok”, she smiled, getting up again. “I’ll bring dinner. You stay put.”

“Alright.”

“Don’t go anywhere, Frank.”

“I won’t.”

Feeling ridiculously giddy, she closed the door to her bedroom and turned to leave, stopping on her tracks when she saw the state of the place.

Their clothes were scattered everywhere. The end of the rug was flipped, the lamp on the side table by the couch was precariously balanced, one touch away from tipping over, her shirt sitting there by it. Her skirt, boots, socks and underwear laid on the floor, along with Frank’s hoodie. When she walked to the kitchen to get the usual apple she had for breakfast on her way to the paper, she saw the cutting board she had knocked over. Looking at the front door, their coats remained where they had dropped them, and her purse had spilled a notebook and her make up bag out onto the floor.

She quickly picked everything up and placed them on the couch in a ball, already late to fold them properly.

Putting her boots and her coat on, she picked up her purse and clicked her tongue when she realized she hadn’t charged her phone. Hopefully the 3% battery would be enough until she got to the office and plugged it in there.

“Morning Mr. Carson”, she said to that same nosy neighbor from last night, rolling her eyes when he nodded his head and tried to look behind her inside her apartment.

Even when the cold wind blasted her in the face when she stepped out of the building, she was feeling good. Good enough to not care when the cab she hailed almost splashed her with muddy curb water.  

.:.

She’s damn proud of this one.

It’s after lunch, Ellison had just finished reading her next article, telling her that Anna is gonna be pissed about losing the front page again, when Jake from the mail room walks in.

“Miss Page? These are for you”, he says, grinning from behind the bouquet of flowers in his hands.

White roses.

A simple, but elegant arrangement, much more elaborate than the last one, that found it’s way to her after being shoved in a backpack.

“Hmm”, Ellison interjects sarcastically, peeking while Karen fishes for the card. “Someone’s got an admirer. Although”, he turns to Jake. “Did we check it for explosives?”

Karen rolls her eyes while Jake says that “yes, twice”, and Ellison shrugs.

“What? You have a track record of being sent things that blow up. Last time you went to it, but you never know.”

She sits back on her chair and swirls around towards the wall, biting her lip to keep the smile in, opening the card and reading the neat handwriting.

_“Got a call from David, had to go and meet him._

_But I’ll come back._

_See you tonight. Dinner is on me._

_Love, Not Pete”_


End file.
